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an accidental recovery
I've spent months, as I've spent years
turning over pebbles and gravel.
In search of an exquisite epiphany,
on my hands and knees.
Grinding decades of sediment into
my palms until blood rises to the surface
pooling in drops of wasted sentiment.
I slowly begin to notice
the glitter in the gravel
lambent like gravestones in the evening
caught by headlights.
Mirroring an entire lifetime of
compunctions and self accusations
(a story without pictures or words)
For the first time I notice the ache
unlike any other and I laugh.
A laugh that rings out barbaric and extraneous
as the fulmination of my long expected epiphany
is spread out before me in pebbles and rocks.
No longer blinded by reflections and recollections,
I walk away with no real understanding
the way it was meant to be.
